Trouble is I don't know which way to fall
by karatam
Summary: A slight AU after the rave scene in Thomas' series 3 ep. Emily/Naomi and Emily/Effy


**Trouble Is (I don't know which way to fall)**

_Slight AU from party scene in Thomas' episode_

Emily watches Naomi walk away, feels a pressure in the middle of her chest; she can't decide if it's heartbreak or the more familiar feeling of humiliation.

"Shit. _Shit_." College was supposed to be a way to start over; somewhere she could be someone other than Katie's sister. Apparently, all she is going to be is the creepy gay girl who follows Naomi around. She closes her eyes and makes a conscious decision to not chase after Naomi anymore; to not follow with her gaze whenever she sees a flash of pale blonde; to not turn into a stuttering mess at the slightest provocation. It just hurts too fucking much. She knows perfectly well that this promise will most likely be broken the next day, at best the day after that, but makes it all the same.

She turns to walk in the opposite direction of Naomi but stops abruptly when she comes face to face with Effy.

Effy smirks and asks, knowing full well the answer, "So, which one are you?"

Emily flounders, head still swimming from alcohol and rejection, and answers, "Gay. I mean, Emily." She squeezes her eyes shut, wishing she could just disappear, but when she opens them again, Effy is still standing there.

"Hung up on her, then?" Effy's eyes flick over to where Naomi had disappeared, before focusing back on Emily with a terrifying intensity; Emily isn't used to people paying her that much attention, especially people like Effy Stonem.

"What? No, shit, I have to go." Emily moves to brush by Effy and re-enter the crowd, but Effy leans slightly to the side, leans close enough that Emily can smell the alcohol on her breath.

"I'll take that as a yes then." Effy quirks an eyebrow at Emily's almost outraged expression. "Ever kiss a girl? Besides Naomi, of course." She remains perfectly still, waiting, and Emily isn't sure what she's supposed to do.

She gives up.

"No, just her. Fuck, I can't believe I'm telling you this." Emily looks at the ground, preparing herself for the shit storm that is sure to come. _Fuck_. She starts in surprise when she feels fingers touching her chin and lifting her face back upwards.

Emily can't help herself, her eyes slip to Effy's mouth and then a little lower before she remembers herself and jerks her gaze back to Effy's eyes. Emily thinks that Effy looks far too amused, but then notices that Effy's eyes don't look quite as sharp as they usually do. She allows herself to breathe.

They stand together; Emily's hands by her sides, Effy's one hand holding Emily's chin while the other drifted slowly upwards. Effy's lips quirk and then she leans forward.

It's not at all like the kiss she shared with Naomi – though 'shared' is probably to generous for what that was – it's all lips and teeth and tongue and Emily just feels like she's drowning. Her hands rise without her knowledge and hold onto Effy's hips for dear life, fingers digging into the material of her dress.

Effy pulls back and waits a moment for Emily's eyes to open. Emily sways on the spot and breathes, "Oh."

The corner of Effy's lips rises into the hint of a smile. Emily licks her lips and realizes she needs to be much more drunk than she is for this to make any sense. Effy moves back a couple inches, just enough for Emily to realize where her hands ended up. She snatches them back a little too quickly to be anything but conspicuous and Effy lets out a small snort of laughter. Emily just stares at Effy, silently asking _what the fuck?_

Then suddenly, without warning, a full blown smile appears on Effy's face, and Emily feels her heart nearly stop. Then it's gone and Effy is backing away, moving to disappear in the pulsing crowd. Emily watches her go, too confused to protest, letting her eyes drift down and then up again.

Effy catches her eye one last time and waits for just a second, lengthening the moment, before tilting her head and saying, "You don't have to be the doormat, Emily." And then she's gone.

Emily stands without moving for a moment, then lifts her hand to touch her lips cautiously. She can taste lip gloss that isn't hers and it makes her smile and straighten her shoulders a bit. She swallows against a dry throat and notes she needs a drink, the more alcohol the better.

_Not a doormat, then. _She can do that.


End file.
